


Crashing Through

by The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff



Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [6]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown 2019, DEC 10 - Re-imagined Scene (What if…), Feelings, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Wayward Son Compliant, Spoilers for Book 2: Wayward Son, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21751873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff/pseuds/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff
Summary: What if Simon & Baz had just a few more minutes alone together on the beach at the end of Wayward Son?Simon just wants Baz to be happy. Baz just wants Simon to see that he doesn't want to give him up.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557748
Comments: 28
Kudos: 238
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2019





	Crashing Through

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Carry On Countdown 2019 - Re-imagined Scene/What if...
> 
> Dedicated to all y'all who just viscerally needed these idiots to say _I love you_ at the end of Wayward Son. (It me.)

**SIMON**

“Why can’t you see that I wouldn’t be happy anywhere without you?” 

It shocks me, how loud he’s being. It’s not quite like that night in the forest; his voice isn’t _quite_ thunder. But still. I must _look_ like he’s shocked me, because his face is softening into something else, something like…

_Fuck,_ is that pity? I don’t fucking _want_ his pity.

I just want him _happy._

I don’t know why he can’t bloody see that he’d be better off without me. That it’ll hurt at first—it’ll really fucking hurt, if he feels anything close to what I do for him—but it’d be _best,_ in the end.

I should’ve ended things before we came on this godforsaken trip. Then he wouldn’t’ve been in the line of fire. Actual, literal fire—

“Simon…” he whispers, and then he just...looks at me. He looks at me like I’m supposed to have an answer. 

I do.

I shake my head. “Baz…” Fuck, don’t start crying _again._ Not _now…_

I have to look away from him; I have to swallow the lump in my throat. If I have to see the pain in his eyes when I…

When I…

“Simon. Don’t you _get_ it?”

“You’re _wrong_ ,” I say, and my voice wavers. “You can be happy. You _will_ be, without me. Just—”

“Simon Snow,” Baz says, and just hearing the way my name sounds in his mouth is ripping my heart from my chest. “If you’re trying to end this, at least have the decency to look me in the eye.” His voice is calm. Cool. Quiet. Like he doesn’t care at all.

But of course he doesn’t. Why would he?

I look him in the eye, those lovely grey pools. Deep water grey. “We should. We.” I can feel the anger boiling in my gut on top of the heartbreak, washing over it like a rogue wave. How can he just _sit_ there?

I clench my fists at my sides. I want to clock him. _Kiss_ him. 

“We should,” I try again.

Baz grinds his perfect fucking jaw back and forth, and when he sucks on his fangs and sneers, I just—

“Use your _words,_ Snow.”

_—break_.

I growl. I surge forward. I take him by the shirt collar and pull on him until our mouths crash together, until our teeth click. 

Then I push him down into the sand, and he lets me. 

  
  


**BAZ**

I think Simon Snow just broke up with me.

Or he tried to, rather. Now I’ve no idea _what_ this is. 

I’m letting him go, letting him suck at my lips, letting him delve his tongue into my mouth, letting him press his hips into mine…

Because I’m weak. Because I’m a constant disappointment to myself. Because I’m hopelessly in love with Simon bloody Snow, and I’ll take what I can get while I can get it. 

I take it all. I’m not sure whether I’m allowed to kiss him back.

_I don’t know what you want, Simon._

If I stop this, he may never kiss me again. This could very well be the last…

_Kiss me, kill me, break my heart…_

My face is wet. Cold, angry tears falling, falling…

I pull him closer. I take the chance on him pulling away.

He doesn't.

  
  


**SIMON**

Cold lips. Cold mouth.

Cold tears.

  
  


**BAZ**

There's a warmth against my skin.

New warmth. _Wet_ warmth. Not...whatever this is. Not Simon's hot skin on mine. Not the warmth of the sun…

_Simon Snow._

You were the sun, and I was crashing into you.

You still are. I still _am._

He whimpers against my mouth.

He's crying.

  
  


**SIMON**

I can't look at him. And I don't want him to look at me.

I don't want him to _see_ me.

I could keep kissing him forever. You can't hide from someone who's kissing you, but at least you can close your eyes.

I love him so much.

I want to tell him so.

My lips are trembling against his. _Because I don't deserve him,_ I think _._ Then, _No_. _Because it hurts to love someone this much. This_ way.

The bubble that's been building in my throat finally breaks.

  
  


**BAZ**

A sound vibrates against my lips.

And then Simon pulls away. I feel the sob tearing through his chest before it pours from his mouth.

He's still pressing me into the sand.

I wrap my arms around him and hold him tight against me.

It's rolling off him in waves, every awful thing he's been through this week, this last year and a half, his entire life.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I hold him. As I let him cry. As I cry with him.

"It'll be alright, love," I whisper to him. I've not called him that since…

Since…

He just shakes harder against me and bunches my shirt in his fist.

"I love you," I tell him, finally. _Finally._ Because there's nothing to lose now. (There's _everything_ to lose.) Because this might be the last chance I get. Because I almost lost him without him ever knowing how much he means to me. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Simon sobs harder against my neck.

"I love you, Simon Snow," I say again. I say it loud enough for him to hear over the surge of the ocean. Over the surge of the waves crashing through him. "It'll be alright."

  
  


**SIMON**

Love. Love. _Love._

I remember the night I asked Baz to be my boyfriend. (Well, the night I asked to be _his_ terrible boyfriend. _Fuck,_ I never thought I'd be _this_ terrible.) I told him I didn't care that he didn't like me…

I was bloody well lying to myself, wasn't I? I've been lying to myself since the day I met him.

I take a few deep breaths and try to steady myself.

_Baz loves me._

I pull back and scrub at my face with the heel of one hand.

I'm scared to look at him, and I'm just now realizing how ridiculous that is. I faced gunshots for him just the other day. I've slain vampires. (And that disgusting devil-eyed goat and his cronies.) I can practically hear the Mage in my head, saying, " _You've slain a dragon, Simon._ " If only the bastard could see me now.

I'd really rather _not_ think of the Mage just now.

I'm scared to look at Baz. But I do it anyway. My shadow is playing against his pale skin, shielding him from the light of the sun.

I can't let him go. Not _now._

_Come on,_ I think. _Come on._

Baz reaches for me with one hand and pushes some hair back from my forehead.

_He loves me._

I can see it in his eyes.

I can feel it in the way he touches me, so gentle it makes me want to pull away.

I don't pull away. 

I nod at him. I can feel my lips starting to tremble again.

"You don't have to," Baz whispers, "if you're not ready—"

"No. No. I…"

I almost lost him. I could've lost him, and he never…

He's got tear tracks running down his face. His black hair is splayed shining against the sand. I can practically hear him complaining about trying to get the grains out.

The thought makes me huff a laugh. (It sounds like a sob.)

"Fuck, Baz. Fuck, I." Come on. _Please..._

I take one more breath.

"I love you so fucking much." I practically choke on the words, but I've said them, and he's _here._

I've got him right where I want him.

Under my hands, my body pressing into his.

My lips against his.

My hands in his hair.

His cold palms against the small of my back, under my shirt.

Baz.

Baz.

_Baz._

"Baz!" Penelope. "Nicks and Slick, you two, sort yourselves on your own time; we have to go!"

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked this one!
> 
> Come say hi to me on [Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thehoneyedhufflepuff) I'm a disaster over there.


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